De Profundis
by thequietlife
Summary: Yuki despairs after Tohru has been forced to leave. Nothing masterful, but please R&R anyway! I'd like to improve my short story writing! *Oneshot*


Disclaimer: I do not own Fruits Basket!

Tasukete

By Ozaki Amaya

            I looked up at the bright blue, cloudless sky and wondered why it had to contrast so sharply with my mood of depression. It would have been so much more fitting had it been tempestuous—dark as night, pouring down rain, with lightning and thunder—for that was how I felt. I suppose, however, that the weather is quite defiant and would cease to exist before it catered to anyone's emotions... except hers...

            She could control the weather. When she was sad or afraid, it would always be raining. When she was happy, her smiles could clear up the cloudiest of days. I knew that day that, somewhere, she was smiling her brightest smile. I was just wishing that—that day—she had been smiling at _me_.

            But I was not worthy of such a wish, since it was my fault she was gone. Everything I touch is cursed and everything I love is taken from me. It was inevitable. Still, I was wishing that fate had forgotten about me and that I would have been able to be happy for once. But it's silly for me to hold such a hope.

            I sighed and sunk farther into my chair, replaying memories of her in my head—her smiles, her cooking, her kindness, her acceptance. It almost made me happy to think of her, but there was the one sickening fact that she was no long around. It was enough to bring me to my knees.

            My memories of her paralyzed me. I couldn't move. I didn't want to. I just wanted to live in those memories, to live in my dreams of us being together, to imagine things being as perfect as they had been before fate took its toll.

            If only I hadn't... Oh, it was no use wishing things had been different. I couldn't go back. I couldn't restore what I had taken away. I was useless. I could only sit there and stare. I had been there for days, without food, without sleep, without her. At that rate, I would die, but I already felt exanimate, which couldn't have been much different. Without her I ceased to exist. My life had no meaning.

            If she would have recognized me, I would have gone to find her, but I was nothing to her now. Sixteen years of my life wasted, until I met her. For five years, my life had direction, had meaning, had substance. I meant something to someone. I was happy. But now, at twenty-one, I was wasting away again.

            I heard a knock at the door, but I ignored it, pretending I wasn't in. It was pointless, anyway. They all knew I hadn't left my room since she walked out that door, and they knew I hadn't eaten, either, and hadn't said a word. I could tell they were worried. What they couldn't understand was that I was punishing myself deliberately. They said it wasn't my fault, but it was and they couldn't see it. It was because I was "special," because I had cause to be tortured. He made her leave because he wanted to break my spirit. I wanted to punish myself for letting him do it. My spirit was broken. She was gone and it was my own fault.

            The knock came again. A muffled voice called my name. I sunk to the floor and lay there. I refused to answer. He jiggled the door, calling my name again in his stern voice, but I would not adhere to his pressing tone. I did not want to see anyone. I only wanted to see her. Even if she didn't remember me, I... No, that wasn't true. If she didn't remember me, seeing her would only make the fact more real, would make it more painful. 

            A knock again. I thought he would have given up by now. I thought he would have realised that I was punishing myself, that I couldn't let them see me—not after what I had done. They loved her, too. Not like I did, but they loved her, too, and it was my fault... all my fault. How could I have been so stupid? Why did I never tell her...?

            "I know you're in there. I know you're awake. Let me in," the monotone voice continued.

            _No_, I thought. _No_. Let him stand there.

            I rolled over onto my side. I felt so empty, so alone. She would have wanted me to live a happy life, to use the things she taught me to lead a full life, to still be her friend, but her loss made me realise how impossible that was. If I couldn't even have her by my side, I...

            ...And now she's all alone. ...Because of me. Although she may be smiling, she's all alone.

            His voice rang out again, but I couldn't make out what he said. The pounding in my skull took precedence over his sullen words. Thinking of her was painful—her loneliness, my loneliness, my curse, my memories of her. I wanted to throw something across the room, to lash out, but nothing was within my reach, and I felt too weak to raise myself from my position on the floor. The situation seemed familiar—a figure lying spread out on the floor, unmoving, unresponsive, feeling sick and in pain; feeling angry and unpredictable. It was as if I had seen it somewhere before—in some movie, or in some grotesque nightmare.

            It was then that I realised what I was becoming. He had won for sure. My enemy had won, indeed, for I was transforming into him unknowingly. I suddenly felt a profound nausea in my stomach. My head pounded harder, I began to sweat profusely. My face grew red, my breathing quickened, and I jumped to my feet. I paced franticly around the room, desperately wanting to disappear. I felt as if I had killed someone. In a sense I had—myself. I couldn't let it continue... For her... even if she didn't know who I was... even if she didn't remember me... I had to go on being myself.

            I heard my name again. _Fine_, I thought. _If talking to them will make this horrifying transition end, I'll open the door. I'll be myself..._ My eyes were burning from insomnia, my stomach churning, my heart pounding. This was tearing me apart. I was tearing myself apart. 

            "Open the door," the harsh voice reminded me.

            I took a weak step forward, unlocked the door, and slid it open. I dropped to my knees before the beautiful apparition before me. It was all I could do to stop myself from crying. I wanted desperately to hold her in my arms, to tell her how much I had missed her, but it wasn't possible, and I was nothing to her now. She had no memories. 

            But there she was right in front of me, by some miracle, and I was saved, once again—by her, and by the people who cared about me, whom I had underestimated. I knelt there, speechless, all sense of feeling numbed by her radiating warmth. _Thank you for saving me from myself, time after time. You're my salvation._

            Fate may deal me awful cards, but I learned then that hopelessness does nothing, and as long as I have people who care about me, all will work out well. They will pull me up when I can't pull myself up. I will survive for them, for myself, for her.

            He stepped forward beside the tall doctor, whose clinical tone of voice pulled me up from the darkness, his green kimono rustling slightly. "Yuki-kun," he said delightedly. "Meet our new maid!"

            All I could do was smile, my pain forgotten. _Thank you._

Author's note:

It's not anything special. Just the product of boredom and procrastination. ^^ Please tell me what you think of it!


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